After All This Time
by Midnight Raptor
Summary: Five years ago, Andy left the division after an argument with Sam. Now, she's back, wanting to set things right. But the years have taken a toll on Sam and she's about to find out just how much her absence has thrown his life upside down.Sam/Andy Complete
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Gosh, I've just been getting inspiration for these Rookie Blue fics left and right. I don't think I've ever written this many fics in this short amount of time. XD Anyways, this is something I came up with after listening to the song "Seven Years" by Cedar Avenue on repeat that played in "In Blue" during the evaluation scene. The story basically follows all of the events as they happened except for Luke asking Andy to move in with him in "In Blue" so just pretend that didn't happen. But enough of me talking and I'll let you get reading. :)

Disclaimer: All I own is the plot.

_After All This Time_

Sometimes she doesn't quite know why she does the things she does.

She's pulling into the nearly packed parking lot on her right as this thought runs through her mind. After circling around for a few minutes, she manages to find a space and squeezes in, maneuvering the compact Volvo carefully between the flanking cars. In front of her, the steel gray building stands proudly, a reminder to all that those inside lived their lives to serve and protect by whatever means necessary. She stares back at the gleaming walls of steel, remembering the last time she had step foot inside.

_Opening the glass doors of the division, she strode purposefully into the building. From his position at the front desk, Dov gave her a puzzled look._

"_Aren't you supposed to be__—"_

_But she didn't stop, the rest of his question drowned out by the general noise of the station. She was here for one reason and one reason only. Her feet carried her, seemingly on autopilot, to the glass-walled office at the back of the building. She could see him sitting at his desk, laboriously filling out papers and other pieces of business his job entailed. Quickly, she brushed her fingers under her eyes, hoping that they weren't red and raw like she knew they had been just minutes before. When he heard her soft knock on his door, he beckoned for her to enter._

"_Officer McNally." Best said in greeting._

"_Sir."_

_He studied her intently as she approached his desk. "You were assigned to the streets today." If he was surprised at her being there, it didn't show._

"_Yes, sir, I know." She stopped in front of him and stood at parade rest, hands clasped behind her back, feet slightly apart, eyes staring straight in front of her. "But I needed to speak to you."_

_Leaning back in his chair, he steepled his fingers, a sign that he was listening._

_She took a breath, willing her racing heart to still. "I want to be transferred."_

_At this, he frowned. "And why would you be inclined to do so?"_

"_I had a confrontation with another officer."_

"_Which officer?"_

_She hesitated for a split second. "Officer Swarek."_

_His eyebrows shot into his forehead, clearly taken aback. "What kind of confrontation?"_

"_It was a personal issue, sir." she replied, trying to keep the emotion from her voice._

"_I need a little more than that, McNally."_

_There's a beat of silence. She was hoping to keep his name out of this as much as possible but there wasn't anything she could do about that now. "I commented on a personal issue. Officer Swarek reacted unprofessionally."_

"_And you want to be transferred instead of him?"_

_She nodded._

_Best closed his eyes as he processed this. "Did he act inappropriately in anyway?"_

_She knew the meaning behind his question and shook her head firmly. "No, sir. No behavior of that sort was involved."_

_Another silence followed. With a sigh, Best leaned forward in his seat. "Andy, there are other ways we can deal with this." _

_That, she knew, but she had already considered them before she arrived at the station. She shook her head again. "He's compromised my ability to work effectively as a peace officer here. And he's higher in rank so my leaving would have less of an impact on the division." For the first time since she stepped foot in the office, she dropped her gaze from its fixed point on the wall to look at Best. She swore she could hear him thinking. _

"_If Swarek was out of line, we can deal with this from his end." he tried again._

"_I want it to be me."_

_Another pause. "When do you want this to be effective?"_

"_Immediately." Noting the tight look on this face, she added, "I realize this is such short notice, sir, but I can have the paperwork done by the end of the day."_

_He considered this. "Are you absolutely certain that this is what you want to do?" _

_For the briefest of moments, she thought about taking it all back. _No, it was her mistake_, she could say. _Officer Swarek did nothing wrong_. She would get back to the cruiser, finish her day on the streets, then come to work tomorrow and do it all over again. Just like before. _

_But things were not like before. Not after what he said. And she just couldn't do this anymore. So, she turned to the man sitting in front of her, his expression serious and hardened, and looked him straight in the eyes. _

"_Yes, sir." _

She sighs now as she remembers, nearly five years later to the day. But there isn't anything she can do to change it now. She gets out of the car and makes for the entrance, painfully aware of the fact that she's walking the same route she took all those years ago. Inside, the familiar sounds of ringing phones, rustling papers, typing keys, and ongoing conversations reach her ears and it suddenly occurs to her how much she's missed being here.

"Andy?"

The voice calls her attention and she turns to see a very pregnant Traci standing up from behind the front desk.

"I didn't know you were coming in today." says her friend slowly as she walks out from around her station.

She decides to just get to the point, knowing Traci would see right through any lie she'd give. "I'm looking for Sam."

The look of concern and confusion on Traci's face isn't lost to Andy. As her best friend, Traci was privy to everything that had gone on in her life since she left the division five years ago and, considering the circumstances, knew enough to question her very presence at the station.

"He's out on patrol."

"Oh." _Of course, he is, you idiot. _"Right." She shifts her weight from one leg to the other. "Do you think I could hang around here 'til he comes back?"

"Andy…" Traci begins, careful to avert her eyes from her friend.

"Please, Trace? I really don't want to have to go back home."

There's a moment's hesitation before Traci nods slowly. "Alright. I could use the company. And Diazes has been asking about you."

"Thanks, Traci." she replies, smiling.

"Hey, Andy!"

Traci smirks. "Speaking of the devil."

They both turn to see Chris striding towards them, the keys to his cruiser jingling with every step. When he reaches the two of them, he pulls Andy into a bone-crushing hug.

"Missed you too, Chris." she mumbles into his vest.

He laughs, releasing her. "Well, you don't exactly visit these parts. Do you hate us that bad or something?"

She smacks him lightly on the arm. "Hate you? Never." She glances around the building. "How's Gail doing?"

At this, he beams. "She's awesome. Doctor said she shouldn't be doing any intense physical activities so she's taking it easy temping with the D's for now." After being married for three years, Chris and Gail were finally expecting the newest member of their family, a boy, by the end of the year.

"That's great, Chris." she says sincerely. Marriage and time, she had witnessed, had melted Gail's icy exterior. "I'm happy for you guys."

"Thanks."

"Come on, Chris! I need my coffee!" a voice behind them calls out causing him to chuckle.

"Well, I better run or Zac's not gonna make it through the day." he says, referring to his partner. "You sticking around for a while? Wanna get some lunch with us or something?"

She smiles. "I'd like that."

"Sweet! I'll see you two later then." With that, he runs out the door.

"Still eager to get on the streets." Andy notes, chuckling.

Traci rolls her eyes. "You should see him and Zac when he's hyped up on his caffeine. They practically bounce out the door."

Laughing, she follows her friend back around the front desk. On the other hand, there were things that a five years absence couldn't change.

...

Ten hours later, she's sitting at a work station in the darkened building, idly rapping her fingers against the metal desk.

It had been a wonderful day. Although Traci was the one person from the whole division she saw most often, they had spent a majority of the morning catching up on the events that had transpired since the last time they had seen each other. The station had been unusually quiet which left more than enough time for giggling and talking, a situation that strongly reminded Andy of their time as rookies assigned to man the desk.

Always the punctual man, Chris promptly arrived back at the station on time for his lunch break and the three of them, plus Gail who they had managed to scoop up from the D's office, headed out for their favorite diner. Walking through the door, Andy was pleasantly surprised to see a somewhat bulkier Dov leaning against the counter, his nearly one year with the ETF unit showing clearly on his frame. Apparently, it was his day off but Chris had called him to join the party.

They picked out a booth in the back, away from most of the other patrons, and proceeded to fill the air with boisterous talk. It had been several months since Andy was last with all of them like this and a lot had happened in that time. Dov was engaged to a nurse from St. Mike's who shared his love of thrills and excitement; Gail had passed up an offer for a position at headquarters, having no desire to follow in the footsteps of her white-shirt relatives; Traci, very much in her last trimester, informed them that she would be taking her maternity leave at the end of the month, possibly even a little later than that if she managed to persuade Jerry otherwise.

They sat there, laughing, talking, eating, just five friends catching up and winding down a bit before they headed back to work. Unfortunately for them, that came all too soon and after paying and saying good-bye to Dov, the other four returned to the station. Andy then spent the remainder of the afternoon helping Traci out in whatever way she could which mainly just consisted of picking up anything she managed to drop on the floor since there was very little she could do as an officer not stationed at the division.

With the arrival of the end of shift, Jerry came to whisk away his wife but not before she threw Andy a significant look.

"Maybe you should just come back some other time." Traci suggested quietly.

But she was having none of it. "I need to talk to him, Trace."

Traci let out a quiet sigh but dropped the issue, allowing Jerry to steer her away.

And that was how she now found herself in her current position, sitting in the considerably quieter station, her eyes glued to the entrance of the men's locker room. It's been nearly two hours after shift and he still hasn't made an appearance either entering the locker room or leaving it. But this doesn't raise her concern, remembering all the times she had arrived back at the barn hours after shift had ended.

What is making her stomach turn in unpleasant knots, however, is simply the thought of seeing him again. It had been five long years since she last saw those dark, brooding eyes and dimpled grin. Five years since he had managed to find the chink in her armor and work his way under her skin. Five years since she decided that that scared her enough to push him away. And so here she is five years later, no more at peace with her decision than she was back then.

She realizes just then that she has no idea what she's going to say to him. There's so many things she wants to say, so many things she wishes she had the courage to tell him all those years ago. But that was then and this is now and as much as she wishes that isn't so, she knows that, "I'm sorry." simply won't cut it.

Suddenly, the locker room door opens and there he is. For a moment, she forgets that she's there to talk to him and just watches as he walks past, taking no notice of the fact that she's sitting just a few feet away from him. Immediately, she notices that something's different. His shoulders, once strong and straight, now slump tiredly on his frame. His head is slightly bowed and his feet almost seem to drag as he makes his way to the entrance.

Just when he's about completely pass her, she jumps to her feet, eyes still fixed on his resigned form, and calls out softly.

"Sam."

* * *

A/N: I know some things seem a bit vague but all will be explained in due time. Also, I'm currently smack dab in the middle of the semester so things are getting a little crazy here. I have a ton of papers due and books I need to get to so the next chapter might take a while but bear with me. (I really should be focusing on them but when an idea forms it won't go away til I do something about it XD ) Anyways, what'd you guys think? Let me know please! I love hearing them. :)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you so much for all your reviews and to everyone who's put this on their alerts. I really do appreciate the enthusiasm you've all shown. So, here's the next chapter, guys. Since this is five years in the future, I'm assuming that our current rookies are no longer rookies so there's a new bunch of rookies at 15. Also, I'd just like to say that this story won't be very long. As it is, I only have about 5 chapters planned, maybe 6. But anyways, here's Chapter 2. Please read and review! :)

Disclaimer: I most definitely don't own Rookie Blue.

Pulling into the barn, he quickly cuts the engine and gets out of the car. He's about to head inside, eager to take a shower and head home for the day when he hears a small noise behind him.

"What is it, Quinley?" he snaps at the rookie who was still standing by the cruiser looking rather torn.

Quinley seems to shrink. "The prisoner, sir?"

Shit. He forgot about the half-conscious mess they arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct. "Book him." he replies, waving a hand dismissively.

The rookie all but beams at the opportunity of booking the perp himself. "Yes, sir."

But Sam's already halfway inside the barn by the time those words leave Quinley's mouth. He knows what the rookies think of him. He was the hard-ass cop who'd give you a hard time if you were unfortunate enough to get in his way which the rookies all knew not to do. He knows he shouldn't be taking it out on them. Hell, it wasn't their fault. But after five years, he's just gotten used to putting on the act. He sighs heavily and rubs his face, wondering how Best had cornered him into taking on a rookie for the day.

_"__I'm not a T.O. anymore." he said, crossing his arms defiantly. _

_Best stared him down. "A fact I'm well aware of, Officer Swarek. But with Winters and Cho both testifying in court today, we're down two T.O.s. So, unless you want to switch places with them and memorize their notes for the trial, I suggest you get out there and show Quinley the streets. Dismissed."_

_He fought to compose himself. "Yes, sir." he mumbled grudgingly before heading out of the office._

Walking into the men's locker room through the side door, he's utterly grateful that the place is nearly deserted as he really didn't feel like dealing with anyone at the moment. He strips off his uniform quickly and hops in the shower. Allowing the jet of hot water to wash over his body, he reconsiders his day.

It was June 12 and no matter what the year, June 12 always feels like the longest day of his life and being paired up with a rookie didn't help much with that either. Quinley was a good kid with the potential of one day becoming a great copper but it was precisely that reason why Sam didn't want to have him today in the first place. Thankfully, Quinley knew better than to attempt to engage his T.O. in small talk so they passed their time in the car in silence occasionally interrupted by the radio bursting to life. It had been a relatively quiet day and on any other day, he wouldn't have minded. But today wasn't any other day. Today was June 12 and he needed those calls to keep himself from thinking about what he knew tomorrow entailed. But the calls didn't come and so he had no choice but to torture himself with thoughts of what the following day would bring.

He suddenly realizes that the shower has now turned into an ice bath so he quickly shuts it off, cursing. He dresses slowly, like maybe if he stalls long enough tomorrow might never come. He knows the thought is absurd but that doesn't stop him from thinking it just like he's done so many times before. At last, he's dressed and with a heavy sigh, steps out of the locker room.

With most of the day shift already gone and the night shift already on the street, the station is strangely quiet, its overhead lights either off or dimmed to a soft glow. Despite 17 years on the force, he's still not completely accustomed to the after shift lull. With heavy feet, he makes his way to the front doors, knowing that he couldn't stall much longer. He's halfway to the entrance when a soft voice speaks from behind him.

"Sam."

He freezes. _No. That isn't possible_. Only it is. His brain just refuses to comprehend it. For the briefest of moments, he's tempted to keep walking, like maybe if he does she'll disappear again like how she did all those years ago. But he won't be called a coward so even though he knows it'll kill him, he slowly turns to face her.

She's standing just a few feet away. Despite the darkness of the room, he can see her every feature as clear as day. The years have been more than kind to her and even after all this time, she still manages to take his breath away. There's a few more worries on her brow and her soft, dark hair is just a little bit shorter but her eyes are still the gentle, hazel eyes he remembers and she's just as beautiful as before. He knows his should be angry, that she would have the nerve to come back after what happened, but all notion of that has gone soaring out the window when his heart had all but stopped upon seeing her so he puts on a small smile instead.

"Andy."

There's a silence, neither knowing what to say to the other.

"So, you finally came back, huh, McNally?" he says at a length. Glancing down at her left hand, he spots the small, glinting diamond resting perfectly on her finger. Immediately, a pang of sadness shoots through him but he manages to keep his smile plastered on his face. "Or should I say Callaghan?"

Something changes ever-so-slightly on her beautiful face. "Sam, I—"

He holds up a hand. "Don't worry about it. I couldn't have made the wedding anyway. Got caught up in a trial in Montreal that day. But congratulations." He doesn't know why he's assuming that she was about to talk about her marriage with Callaghan but for some reason, he feels better when he's the one doing the talking.

Another silence fills the air and it practically tears him apart. "So, how's he doing, anyway?" he asks more for the need to talk about something, anything. "I heard he cracked some big case down in Brantford. That must've done wonders for his career."

She doesn't reply to this and just looks at him, an unreadable expression on her face. So, he keeps talking. "Good for him, you know? Luke always wanted that kinda thing."

Again, silence. He shifts his feet. "You uh…you in town long? I guess you're probably here for Traci, huh? She's due any day now. Jerry's a mess. He's practically bouncing off the walls. You'd think he'd be the one having the kid." He's rambling now but he's comforted by the sound of his own voice, a reminder that he's come this far pretending that everything's okay. But there's only so much of this he can take. "Well, I uh…I told Shaw I'd meet him at the Penny so I'd better get going." This was a lie. There would be no drinks at the Penny for him tonight. Not when tonight was June 12. "You give my best to Luke." He manages to crack a small smile at this. When she still makes no effort to reply, he turns away and makes for the door.

"Sam, wait, I—" she says abruptly.

He stops, turning back to face her. She's looking at him with a torn expression, her mouth slightly open like she wants desperately to say something. But his heart has taken enough torture.

"It was nice seeing you again, Andy." he says softly. Plastering on a feeble smile, he glances one last time at her beautiful face and walks away.

...

Finally finishing up the last of his paperwork, Shaw leans back tiredly in his chair. He loves his job, he really does. But it was moments like these when he wishes that he had chosen a profession that didn't involve any writing. Like construction. Or professional bull riding. He takes a moment to close his eyes, savoring the quiet of the station, before heaving himself to his feet, his 46 year old body protesting loudly at the day's abuses. He then gathers his things, slings his duffle over a shoulder, and heads for the entrance.

He's just about to get within range of the sensors of the automatic glass door when he hears a familiar voice carrying softly through the building. Curious, he turns and sees his best friend talking to a woman half hidden in the shadows. It takes him another second before he realizes that he's actually looking at Andy McNally. Well, Andy McNally-Callaghan, he corrects himself, remembering the wedding three and a half years ago.

He studies Sam closely as he talks about Traci's pregnancy. He's one hell of a cop, one of the best he's known but it's been a rough few years for him, a fact that's written clearly on Sam's worn form. For five years, he's had to watch as Sam slowly ceased to be Sam, pushing away anyone who came too close. There was a time when he lived for other things; his truck, his bike, his friends, his sister. Now, those things that he had once loved more than anything had faded into the background. Now, he lived for his job. It was said that the longer you wear your uniform, the harder it is to take it off and Sam was a testament to that. Only Shaw knew better, along with Jerry, Noelle, and the rest of the former rookies.

Suddenly, he remembers what today was and an unpleasant, sinking feeling settles in his gut. It occurs to him that Andy could not have picked a worse day to visit the division. He watches as Sam begins to walk away, leaving Andy to stare at his retreating back. Raising a hand, he gives her a small wave although he knows she probably doesn't see it.

"Hey, pal," he says as Sam comes up next to him and they exit the building. "You uh…you talking to Andy?"

The corners of Sam's mouth twitch in what could barely be described as a smile. "Just catching up with an old partner."

"Right, yeah. Yeah." He doesn't buy this for a second as he's all too familiar with the look that's etched all over Sam's face. He has a thought, the same thought he has on this particular night every year. "You wanna go for a drink? Diaz still owes us a couple from last week's poker night."

"Tell him to save it." Sam replies, shaking his head. "I'm going home. It's been a long day."

Shaw lets out a quiet sigh. He could at least tell Zoe he tried. "Alright."

Sam claps him on the shoulder and heads for his truck.

Watching his friend's retreating form, he wishes he could help him but he honestly doesn't know how. "Hey, Sammy." he calls out to his back.

Sam turns back around, his expression tired and dejected.

He worries the inside of his bottom lip for a moment. He knows what'll happen tomorrow and as much as he wishes Sam wouldn't do it, he can't bring himself to tell him otherwise. So, instead all he says is, "You take care, brother." Catching Sam's eye, he sees him nod imperceptibly before climbing into his truck and driving away.

Closing his eyes, he sighs again. Even after five years of this, he'll never get used to it.

* * *

A/N: Just a little side note: the bike Shaw mentions is actually a motorcycle that I wrote of Sam having in a fun little one-shot. Check it out if you're interested. It's called "Of Hot Days and Hot Rods." Anyways, Chapter 3 is currently in the works so I'll update as soon as I can (which is whenever college doesn't feel like taking over my life XD ) As always, I love hearing what you thought. :)


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Back again, guys! Chapter 3 here. A lot of answers in this one. Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: Only the idea belongs to me.

He's talking about walls. Or something about Jerry bouncing off of them. She doesn't know. Honestly, she's stopped listening because the only thing she could focus on was the aching look written plainly on his face. Despite the years, she can still read him like an open book and his feeble attempts to hide his emotions were exactly that.

"You give my best to Luke." he says suddenly, breaking her out of her thoughts.

He turns away and it's then that she manages to get her voice to work again. "Sam, wait, I—" she blurts without thinking. She, what? He looks at her expectantly. She wants to explain everything to him, tell him that he's got it all wrong but words seem to fail her and she falls silent.

There's a brief pause. "It was nice seeing you again, Andy." he says at last when she can't bring herself to speak. The ghost of his once brilliant dimpled smile graces his lips, a sight that all but tears her apart, and he walks away. Out of the corner of her eye she sees someone waving at her but her attention is still focused on Sam so she takes no notice. As the two men exit the building, she closes her eyes and lets out a long sigh.

...

20 minutes later, she's curled up on her couch, a glass of scotch in her hand. Unable to help herself, she replays her encounter with Sam again and again, like maybe if she goes through it enough times it'll change what happened. She scoffs at the thought and takes a sip from her tumbler. Seeing him today had brought back so many old feelings which, if she was being completely honest with herself, hadn't faded enough to merit being called old. She remembers that look that had fixed itself on his face, a look that told her that she hadn't been the only one to spend the last five years thinking about what had happened. It had hurt seeing him like that. That wasn't the Sam she knew. The Sam who took any excuse to flash his mega-watt smile. The Sam who never seemed to be at a loss for words. The Sam she fell in love with all those years ago.

Closing her eyes, she brings herself back five years ago to the moment that changed everything.

_It was a beautifully warm summer day. Class had let out the week before for many of the city's schools, a fact being thoroughly taken advantage of by hundreds of children as they ran through the various parks and squares throughout the city. Parents, knowing better than to attempt to confine their children indoors, kept diligent watch from benches and lawns, chatting amongst themselves about their particular plans for the summer._

_It was a calm day, a peaceful day, and given the lack of calls they had received so far, a day perfect by any officer's standards._

_But not for Andy McNally._

_She sat riding shotgun, gazing aimlessly out the window at the buildings passing by. Although they rode in comfortable silence, this did little to ease the thoughts occupying her head. For reasons that were beyond her, she felt as though she was keeping a secret although the issues plaguing her mind were anything but his business. Still, she needed to get them out, the effort of keeping them pent up inside her exceeding the threshold of her tolerance._

"_I'm moving in with Luke." The quietness of her own voice startled her. Her hands fidgeted in her lap but her eyes couldn't seem to decide on what to do so she snuck a sideways glance over to her partner instead._

_To those who didn't know Sam Swarek well, it would've appeared as if he hadn't heard her. But Andy knew better. His reaction was miniscule: the slight clenching of his jaw, the subtle narrowing of his eyes, the nearly undetectable tightening of his hands around the steering wheel, but it was there._

_He made an indistinguishable sound. "Is that right?"_

"_He asked me last week." Her gaze landed on her twisting hands. For some reason, this was a lot more difficult than she had imagined. _

"_And you said yes?"_

_She nodded, unable to find other words to articulate this. _

_He didn't respond to this, instead keeping his eyes trained on the road in front of him. Taking this as all he was going to say on the matter, she sank back into her seat. She wasn't quite sure what she expected him to say but that certainly wasn't it. _

_Suddenly, he turned the car into a deserted alley and cut the engine. She didn't know what to make of this so she said nothing and just looked him. For several moments, he just sat there, hands still on the steering wheel, eyes fixed out the windshield. But when he finally opened his mouth to speak, what he said brought her whole world to a standstill._

"_Don't move in with him, Andy."_

_She stared dumbly at him. A monosyllabic, "What?" was all she could manage to produce. _

"_Don't move in with him." he repeated in a soft voice she had never heard him use before, his gaze still focused on a point in front of him. _

_Slowly, her anger begun to bubble up. "And why not?"_

_He finally brought his smoldering eyes to rest directly on hers. "I think you know why."_

_The weight behind his words and gaze unsettled her. Suddenly, it felt as if her whole world was crashing down on her. The world she had created in which only she and Luke existed and Sam was nothing more than a passing blip on her radar. The world she had tried so hard for the past year to believe was her reality. And it was all shattering with one simple sentence. "No." She closed her eyes, shaking her head vehemently. "You're not doing this. Not now."_

"_I know this is late." he said, the pain evident in his voice. "Believe me, I know. But—" _

_"You don't get it, do you? You can't do this now." Opening her eyes, she looked at him and the expression on his face nearly broke her conviction. _

_He reached over and placed a hand on her arm. "Andy, just listen to me."_

"_No, Sam!" She wrenched herself out from under his touch and clambered out of the car as he did the same. Slamming the door, she turned to face him, tears threatening to spill. "You had all this time and only now you choose to say this." It had been a year and a half since she and the other rookies had been cut loose. A year and a half spent as full-fledged cops no longer bound by the rules of conduct that all rookies were held to. _

_His eyes dropped from hers. "I'm sorry."_

"_Well, that's on you." she scoffed, making her way around the car until she stood right in front of him. "You made your choice and I made mine. I'm moving in with Luke and there's nothing you can do about it." She spat her last sentence out with as much venom as she could muster. Spinning around on her heels, she turned and began to walk away._

_Again, he reached out to touch her. "Andy, wait—"_

_She slapped him. Hard. "I'm done waiting, Sam." _

_And she ran. Hardly caring that she was supposed to be working the streets until five that day. Not caring that she had left her partner standing in a deserted alley. Not noticing the tears that were streaming angrily down her face._

It's a scene she's replayed countless times and every time she does, she wishes it had a different ending. She had been a coward, choosing to run instead of following her heart.

Shortly after being cut loose, Best had assigned the two of them as permanent partners, an assignment that both thrilled and terrified her. Sam was a fantastic cop, a loyal partner, and despite all her efforts otherwise, had gotten under her skin. But she had a long history of choosing the wrong guy and from the moment they met, Sam Swarek had set off every alarm in her head. So, she went with Luke, safe Luke, Luke who didn't send her running in the opposite direction when her heart went the other way. She hadn't been lying to Traci when she had said that she wanted it to work between them that night as they sat in her apartment, slightly tipsy from the alcohol. And she had been resolved to do just that.

Then Sam came and shattered the little world she had created. Yes, she had been angry, that he had waited all that time to finally tell her how he felt. But what she felt most was fear. Fear that now that he had said his piece, whatever they felt between them, whatever it was, was now real, something tangible and breakable, something she knew from experience could break her heart if she wasn't careful.

So, she ran.

Shortly after she had requested to be transferred, she and Luke had bought an apartment in London, a move that took a considerable amount of persuasion on her part. She never did tell him the real reason behind her transfer, saying only that with them moving forward in their relationship, she thought that a fresh start would do them both good. She sold her alibi so well she was nearly tempted to believe it herself.

She remembers his angry words to her the day when she had lost the prisoner they were transporting back to Toronto.

"_You over think every little thing but when something matters, you don't think at all."_

That moment had mattered and of course, she didn't give it a second's thought. It had been pure reflex, her own twisted instinct that had developed over her years of failed and broken relationships. And now, here they were, both still reeling from the consequences of her actions.

She glances then at her left hand, at her sparkling 14-carat diamond wedding ring, recalling the day Luke had slipped it carefully on her finger. Whisking her away for a weekend in July a year after they moved in together, he had taken her to his fishing cabin where, on their second day, he had gotten down on one knee on the beach, taken her hand in his, and asked her to be his wife. Briefly, she had a vision of a different man kneeling in front of her, his dark eyes gazing into hers, but the moment ended as soon as it came and she pushed all thoughts of him aside as she wrapped her arms around Luke's neck, smiling from ear to ear.

Weeks later, they sat at their kitchen table back at their apartment, dutifully sending out "Save the Date" cards to all their friends and relatives.

"_So," he said, pulling another gold embossed card toward him and squinting at the screen of his iPhone's address book. "Are we sending Gail's to her address or Diaz's?"_

"_Chris's." she replied promptly with a small smile. "They moved in together a few months ago."_

_Luke nodded. "Good man, Diaz. Maybe he's getting some inspiration from us."_

_She swatted him playfully on the arm with an envelope. "He bought a condo, not a ring."_

"_So did I and look how we turned out."_

_Sighing dramatically, she rolled her eyes but went back to filling out her cards._

"_What about Swarek? Do you remember his address?" he asked a minute later._

_At this, she froze. She hadn't thought about that. "Actually," she said, careful to keep her eyes trained on the card in front of her. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind if we didn't send him one."_

_Luke looked at her, puzzled. "But he was your partner. Isn't there some sort of code between you, Unis, about that?" he asked as if, as a detective, he didn't understand what it was to have a partner._

_She knew he was just giving her a chance to change her mind but she wished that he hadn't chosen this particular moment to do so. "Sam and I didn't exactly end things well. I wouldn't be too thrilled to see him."_

_Luke considered her for a moment. "Are you sure that's what you want?"_

_She smiled at him and placed a hand over his, ignoring what her brain was screaming at her to say. _

_"Absolutely."_

Looking back now, it seems as if that day had been ages ago but in fact it had only been four years. Unconsciously, she fingers her ring. She doesn't know why she still wears it, not when the divorce has been finalized for over a month. If she's being completely honest with herself, a part of her isn't all that surprised things turned out the way they did.

He loved his job. She knew this even before they got married. He lived, breathed, and bled blue. Somehow, she had gotten herself to believe that she could come second in his life. After all, he was Mr. Perfect in every other way that mattered. Or should've mattered. But as the years went on she couldn't keep deluding herself into thinking that she was happy constantly having to wait for him. The final straw came on their third anniversary six months ago. He hadn't managed to get the day off, something that sadly didn't surprise her, so he went to work that day, insisting as he pecked her on the cheek that he would make the reservation she had made a month earlier. She arrived at the restaurant promptly at 6:45 and was lead to their table by the maitre d'. She was early, she knew, so she settled in with a glass of wine to wait until Luke arrived. 7:00 came and went then 7:30. Reasoning that he had just gotten caught up in paperwork, she continued to wait, although with every minute that passed, the likelihood that this was so diminished tenfold.

It wasn't until 8:13 that he called, saying that they had just had a major breakthrough in a case. She nodded silently and told him she understood, her heart sinking with the effort. As she laid in bed that night, alone, she knew she couldn't do this anymore. She loved Luke but she was never in love with him.

Two weeks later, the papers were served and she was moving out. That day that she left with the last of her things, she stood in the doorway, Luke's worn, handsome face begging her not to go. But she needed to do this. Leaning forward, she pressed a soft kiss against his cheek and walked out of Luke Callaghan's life.

Her fingers trace the familiar silver band now, a reminder of her former life. She needed a fresh start. Slowly, she slips the ring from her finger, allowing it to fall into her waiting palm. She cradles it gently in her hand for a moment before setting it on the coffee table where it lands with a soft _clink! _

She takes another sip of scotch, cringing slightly as the alcohol burns her throat, then places the glass next to her ring on the table. Closing her eyes, she leans forward and cradles her head in her hands. It had been a long five years. Five long years spent wondering how different her life would've been had she not run away from what her heart wanted most. And now here she was, back in the city where it had all started, wanting desperately to fix the mistakes of her past. Recalling Sam's weary stance, she only hoped that it wasn't too late.

* * *

A/N: As always, your comments and thoughts are more than welcome. :)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry this update took a while. School has really been weighing down on me and between papers and midterms, I've been working on this whenever I managed to find the time. Anyways, Chapter 4 here. Please read and review! :)

Disclaimer: All I own is the idea.

The following morning, she strides determinedly into the station, its early morning bustle greeting her presence. Like that fateful day exactly five years ago, she's here for one reason and one reason only.

"Hey, Traci." she greets her friend who was just settling in behind the front desk.

Traci smiles. "Miss us already? It's only been a day. I think this is a new record."

"Don't get your hopes up. I'm still enjoying my sabbatical." she replies with a grin of her own. Quickly, she glances behind Traci at the officers exiting the parade room. "Is Sam back there?"

Almost instantly, Traci's smile disappears and her gaze drops uneasily away from Andy's. "He called in sick." she says slowly.

Andy blinks, taken aback. "Oh. Is he okay?"

Traci shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "Yeah, he's just taking a personal day."

"That doesn't sound like Sam." she muses. In the two years she had known him, he had only called in sick twice when he had contracted a rather severe case of pneumonia and even then it had been at her insistence. "Maybe I should check up on him."

"Andy, that's not something—"

She's cut off by Jerry striding in from the other room. "Hey, Trace, could you run these names for the Renner case real quick?" Catching sight of Andy, he smiles. "Andy, hey. Didn't expect you to be back so soon."

"So I've been told." she replies, throwing a glance at her best friend. "I just came to talk to Sam."

Like Traci's had done several moments before, Jerry's face hardens, all traces of his smile disappearing. He glances at his wife whose expression matched his. "He's not in today."

She furrows her brow. "Okay…well, do you know where he'd be?"

"You know, he'll be back tomorrow. Why don't you come back then?" Traci suggests.

"This can't wait." She's plucked up the courage to say this now. She wasn't going to wait for that to disappear. When this is met by silence, she tries a different approach. "Is there any way I can see him? Does he still live at his old place?"

"Andy, I really don't think that's a good idea." This time it's Jerry's quiet voice that answers.

"Why?" Her eyes dart between her two friends, their cryptic responses confusing and worrying her. "What's going on?"

Jerry and Traci exchange a look. "Nothing." Traci says at last, putting on a small smile that Andy sees right through. "I really just think you should wait until tomorrow to talk to him."

Her heart sinks at the thought. "I've waited five years, Traci."

"I know." She looks at Andy, clearly torn. "I'm sorry."

She considers her best friend and her husband for a moment. Something about their tone and replies unsettled her but she knew she wasn't going to get any more information from them. "I gotta go." she says, turning and heading back for the entrance.

"Andy…" comes Jerry's voice from behind her.

But she doesn't stop. She had to find Sam.

...

The familiar one-story house with its well-kept patch of lawn and neat porch is a welcome sight. Even if its inhabitant had changed in the past five years, the way he liked his house presented obviously hadn't. She makes her way up the steps, noting with a sinking heart that with neither his truck nor his beloved bike parked in the driveway, the likelihood that he was here diminished tenfold. It occurs to her that he might not even live here anymore. Raising a slightly hesitant hand, she knocks twice and waits.

Nothing.

Through the tinted window framed in the door, she sees nothing but darkness, the lights inside obviously off, signaling the absence of its inhabitant. She sighs. She had a feeling that Sam wasn't really sick, having seemed in perfect health when she saw him last night but remembering Traci and Jerry's grim expressions, she knew something was wrong.

She takes one last glance through the window in front of her before heading back down the steps and to her car.

...

Several hours later, she finds herself at the waterfront, sitting on a bench overlooking the harbor. A cool summer breeze blows past, bringing with it the distinct smell of the bay. It's a scent she's learned to recognize effortlessly over the years, having spent countless days on the pier as a child and countless nights on the beach as an adult looking for her drunk father. Looking out at the gleaming surface of the lake, she reconsiders the past few hours.

After stopping at Sam's house only to find it devoid of anyone's presence inside, she had resolved to check all his favorite haunts on the off chance that he happened to be at any one of them. And so around the city she went, stopping at his favorite coffee shop to which he had made numerous early morning trips before they set out to serve and protect; his favorite deli where he had insisted they have lunch every Tuesday for their killer pastrami and corned beef; his favorite steakhouse which was really just an old pub where she knew he would meet his sister whenever she happened to be in town. She even went to the bike shop where he'd take his precious motorcycle for an occasional tune-up. With every stop, she built up the hope that he would be there, just like before and with every stop, those hopes were dashed as she saw no sign of him there. Thoroughly discouraged, she drove aimlessly around the city, unable to help it when she found herself scanning the streets for his familiar tall, dark-haired figure. She remembered then as she was driving up Dundas that there was one other place she hadn't checked and with a carelessness that would've put her title as an officer to shame, she spun her car around and headed for the waterfront.

Which was where she found herself now, once again disappointed when she saw that he wasn't there. Leaning forward in her seat, she rests her forearms on her knees and exhales slowly. To say that she was worried was an understatement. Sam's mysterious absence coupled with Traci and Jerry's strange behavior had unpleasant thoughts streaming through her head, thoughts that hurt her thinking about them.

In the horizon, the sun was slowly setting, its brilliant rays casting a reddish glow on the water. She checks her watch and is surprised to see that it was nearing 5:00. She had spent nearly four hours in her current position looking out across the lake. Quickly, she goes through her options. She could give up searching today and wait until tomorrow like Traci had insisted. Or she could keep looking.

In the end, she decides on the latter, knowing that she couldn't just give up. She had waited five years to tell him how she really felt. She was done waiting.

With her determination renewed, she gets to her feet, her destination the one place she could think of where she'd be able to get some answers.

...

Like she had done earlier that day, she walks through the automatic glass doors of the division with only one thing in mind. She knows that given the responses she received earlier, the likelihood that she would get a different reaction this time weren't that promising but she had to try. As always, the station was dimly lit during this part of the day with most of the officers on duty relegated to night patrol. Passing the now vacant front desk, she makes her way further into the building and spots someone who could hold some answers.

"Noelle!"

Having clearly just gotten off duty, the veteran officer turns from her intended destination to face Andy.

"Andy," she replies warmly, embracing her former colleague when she came close enough. "Traci said you were back."

Stepping back from the older woman, Andy smiles. "Yeah, I've been in town for a while but I just managed to drop by for a visit."

"After five years, I think it's a little overdue."

Andy's smile fades ever-so-slightly as she remembers her main reason for postponing her visit.

"So, what brings you here after shift?" Noelle asks, oblivious to Andy's anxiousness. "They're not much of visiting hours."

She swallows the lump that had formed in her throat. "Well, actually I was kinda hoping I'd run into you."

Noelle looks at her curiously, a signal for her to continue.

_Here goes. _"I was wondering if you could tell me where I can find Sam."

The older woman blinks, slightly taken aback by the question. Suddenly, she looks flustered and her eyes flicker away from Andy's. "I haven't seen him all day."

"He called in sick, I know. I just really need to talk to him."

A pained look of indecision passes across Noelle's face. "I really wish I could tell you but I have to go." she says, trying to make her way around Andy.

Andy holds up a hand, stepping slightly to the side to stop her. "Noelle, please."

With an expression that mirrored that of Traci and Jerry's, Noelle raises her eyes to meet hers. "I'm sorry, Andy." she replies quietly and quickly brushes past her.

Frustrated, Andy lets out a soft groan. This was getting more ridiculous and worrisome by the minute. Just then, she hears a familiar sarcastic voice carrying from the garage entrance. Her heart quickening, she races towards the sound before it disappeared into the men's locker room. Maybe there was still some hope to be had.

...

"Oliver!"

Groaning at the slight glitch in his plan to make it to the locker room uninterrupted, Shaw grudgingly turns toward the voice calling his name. After ten hours of dealing with his rookie, the insufferable chatterbox Brennan, he was in no mood for stalls. "What is it now?" he grumbles.

"It's me. Andy."

And indeed it was. Squinting through the darkened station, he sees her walking briskly towards him. "Oh, McNally." He mentally kicks himself for addressing her by her maiden name. God, he was getting old. "Kinda late for a visit, don't you think?"

She doesn't reply to this as she stops in front of him and when she does, he's struck by the weariness written on her face.

"How's Luke doing?"

She hesitates. "It didn't work out between us." she says, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"Oh." _Way to put your foot in your mouth, Shaw_. "I'm sorry. So, it really is McNally, then huh?"

She smiles a shy almost sad smile. "Yeah."

He can see that she wants to say something more so he gives her a moment, studying her face intently.

There's a brief pause before she speaks. "I need to know where I can find Sam."

He freezes. Of all the things she could have said, that was the one thing he did not want to hear.

"Look," she continues before he has a chance to answer. "I've been asking this question all day and I've been getting the same answer over and over. I don't know what's going on or what happened since I left but I need answers, Oliver." She looks at him with pained hazel eyes and he can see just how much she's bothered by this.

His mind carefully processes his options. Given the hour, he knew Sam was in no fit shape to talk to anyone right now, least of all Andy. But after seeing his friend slowly loose himself over the past five years, he wants it all to stop.

"Please." she begs, her soft voice nearly faltering.

He hesitates for a second, knowing he was betraying Sam which, if Andy didn't tread carefully, would only make things worse. Clenching his jaw, he makes up his mind. "You remember where he lives?"

"Yeah, but I've already tried his house."

"He's there." he answers, shaking his head definitively. "Trust me."

A look of relief spreads across Andy's face. "Thank you." she breathes and without wasting another second, turns and heads back the way she came.

She's scarcely gone a few steps when he calls out to her. "Andy."

She stops to face him, curious.

He's not quite sure what he wants to say but a part of him almost wants to apologize for what she's about to see. "I know you never wanted to hurt him." he finally says, his voice quiet. "But sometimes it just doesn't work out that way."

He watches as she processes this, her hopeful expression crumpling slightly. "I know." she whispers, looking at him for a moment longer before continuing on through the building.

Staring after her, he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He hopes to God he did the right thing.

* * *

A/N: Comments? Thoughts? I'd love to know what you think! :)


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: First of all, I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. This week has just been a mess with regards to college. My midterms and other homework just took over my life. But it's the weekend (finally) and I've been on a writing marathon since it yesterday. I just finished this and decided to post it (at 2 in the morning XD) since it's been a while since an update. Forgive any typos you might find for the time being. I'll get them fixed in the morning...or later I should say. Anyways, here's Chapter 5. You get a little glimpse into Sam's life…so please read and review! :)

Disclaimer: If I owned Rookie Blue, the hiatus wouldn't be nine months long…

A strange feeling of déjà vu comes over her as she makes her way up the empty driveway. Like that fateful day after the blackout over six years ago, it was dark, the glowing full moon the only source of light, and a tight knot of nervousness twists in her stomach. Stepping onto the porch for the second time that day, she takes a steadying breath, willing her racing heart to slow, closes her eyes, and knocks on the door.

Like before, no answer comes but with Shaw's words echoing in her ears, she tries again.

"Sam?" she calls out, albeit rather hesitantly. "It's me."

Again, there's nothing.

"Can you just open the door? I know you're in there."

Silence.

She knocks again, harder this time. "Sam!" Her impatience grows when the distant sound of a car starting is her only answer. Frustrated, she begins to knock steadily on the door. She isn't going to back down now. Not after she's waited all this time.

Suddenly, she sees a dark figure move behind the tinted window, pausing as it worked the lock before the door is wrenched open with an abruptness that causes her to flinch.

...

He's always considered tequila a celebratory drink. A drink meant to be shared with friends at a bar after a particularly long, trying day at work.

He finds it ironic, then, that he's sitting on his couch, alone, with a bottle of the pale amber liquid in his hand, his current state not resembling anything like that of celebration. He scoffs at this and takes another pull from the bottle. If he was still lucid enough to be having that thought then the alcohol clearly wasn't having its intended effect.

It's just past 10 in the morning and on any other day, downing alcohol at this hour is the last thing he'd even consider. But today wasn't any other day. Today was June 13 and no matter what the year, June 13 is always the worst day of his life.

It started out like every other day with him waking at precisely 5:30 as his body had gotten accustomed to after nearly 20 years of living the same routine. But that was where the similarities ended. Had it not been June 13, he would've rolled out of bed, thrown on a pair of jeans and a shirt, picked up his duffle bag, and headed for the gym for a early morning work out before heading for the station.

But not today.

Today, when he opened his eyes, the sun having not yet peaked out from over the horizon, he simply laid in bed, unmoving, as he stared up at the darkened ceiling. At 6:30, when he knew a night officer would temporarily post themselves at the front desk until the arrival of the day shift, he reached over to his bedside table and picked up his cell phone, his fingers working on autopilot as he called the first number on his speed dial.

He told the same story he gave every year. _Bad stomach bug. Must've been something he ate. He'll be back on duty tomorrow_. It was a dumb excuse and looking back, he wonders why he didn't come up with anything more original but it did the job. The officer on the other line didn't question it. No one ever did. After all, this was the one day in the whole year he ever called in sick so everyone more or less let him have his way.

Hanging up, he turned off his phone and laid there for a moment longer before dragging himself out of bed. He pulled on a pair of jeans but didn't even both with a shirt. It wasn't like he was going anywhere. With heavy feet, he made his way to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out the first beer his hand touched. The cold glass chilled his skin, raising the hair on his arms but he paid no attention to the sensation and instead raised the bottle to his lips, downing half of it in one shot. After grabbing a second beer for good measure, he headed for the living room where he deposited himself on his couch with a heavy sigh.

That had been hours ago but little had changed since then except for the amount of alcohol he had consumed. There had been a knock on his door a few hours back but as usual, he ignored it. It was the same routine he went through every year on this day and even though it's only been five years, he feels as if he's been through a lifetime.

He throws back another gulp of tequila. Normally, scotch was his drink of choice but with this bottle sitting in his pantry since Christmas, a gift and souvenir from Mexico from his cousin, he decided to bypass his M.O. Only a couple mouthfuls through the bottle but having already downed the three beers in his fridge, he's starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. But unfortunately for him, it's not enough to keep his mind from wandering to thoughts he'd rather keep out of his head.

Like the scenes from a terrible movie that stayed with you no matter how hard you tried to forget, the events of the day exactly five years ago begin to resurface and it's all he can do not to chug the tequila faster in an effort to drown them out.

_He watched as she ran down the deserted alley, her steps echoing loudly against the surrounding concrete buildings. He wanted to call out to her, tell her over and over just how sorry he was for waiting until now but his throat seemed to close on its own accord so instead, he just stood there, silent. Blood pumped rhythmically through his ears, rushing to the cheek that had connected with her open hand just moments before. The muscle throbbed but right now, the pain was the last thing on his mind._

_He stood rooted to the spot until she turned the corner and continued on out of site. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhaled loudly, silently cursing himself for letting it get this far. _

_It had killed him to see her with Callaghan. He hated the kisses they exchanged before she went out on patrol, the way the smug detective strutted around to present her with a cup of coffee whenever they were assigned to the desk, the times when the blonde boy-wonder whisked her away from his side to call her into the interrogation room for "a quick second."_

_It had been torture, this past year and a half, his only moments of relief coming when they were alone in the squad car, Officers Swarek and McNally out to serve and protect. There had been countless times when he had managed to pluck up the courage to say something but every time he did, he remembered the steady silence that fell between them that night after the drug bust when he had told her, "See, you don't have to fake it anymore." He had given her an opportunity to say what was on both of their minds and instead, she chose Callaghan. So, he let her go, resolving to live with her insistence of "being friends" as much as it killed him to do so. She seemed happy with the blonde detective so who was he to tell her otherwise?_

_He paid for that decision now, the impact of her slap still stinging his cheek but in all honesty, he probably deserved it. After one last glance down the alley in the direction she had taken off in, he clenched his jaw and turned back to the car. Following her would be the worse thing he could do, knowing that she would need time to over think his admission, so he resolved on finishing up the day on the streets._

_Alone, without his partner._

_And so the day went, with his thoughts running amuck despite his attempts to focus them and when he walked back into the station at the end of shift, there was nothing he wanted more than to get away from everything so he could finally make sense of the chaos cramming his brain. Still, he couldn't help it when he found himself glancing around the building for her familiar form, only to be disappointed when it became clear that she wasn't anywhere in the station. Of course she wasn't going to be here. Not only was it after shift but he knew she wasn't about to confront the mess they found themselves in head on. _

_With a resigned sigh, he decided to let it go for the time being. They would talk tomorrow. _

_..._

_But the following morning when he entered the parade room, her beautiful face was nowhere in sight. He threw a quick look at Nash who sat with Peck at the back of the room, hoping to discern any information about Andy's whereabouts, but the younger officer didn't betray anything. Clearing his throat, Best quieted the room so he headed over to his usual seat next to Shaw, frowning. A few seconds later, Diaz and Epstein came hurrying through the door, causing Best to scowl disapprovingly in their direction as they shuffled into their seats. The briefing started but from his position at the side of the room, he could see that the rookies had no interest in anything the staff sergeant was saying. With narrowed eyes, he watched as they whispered quickly amongst themselves, Nash doing most of the talking. Now he could see that her expression was troubled, urgent as she spoke to her friends while both Epstein and Diaz's brows slowly furrowed and equally concerned and puzzled looks fixed themselves on their faces._

_Parade ended with their customary "To Serve and Protect" and still Andy had not arrived. His stomach clenched unpleasantly at the thought that maybe her absence was the subject of the rookies' urgent whisperings. Still, he held onto the notion that she was probably just late, an idea he repeated silently to himself as he headed out to the car. _

_He spent 20 minutes leaning against the passenger door, his eyes trained on the garage as other officers made their way out for patrol, before it came clear that she wasn't going to be exiting the building to join him anytime soon. Not knowing whether what he was feeling most was worry or irritation, he jammed a hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialing the number he had come to memorize effortlessly over the past two years. Of course, she didn't answer and he gritted his teeth, thinking of what to say as her voicemail played back._

"_McNally," he began rather gruffly but immediately softened. "Andy." There was a brief pause as he struggled internally with himself. "Look, I'm sorry about the other day. I get if you're upset but I just want to talk. I can't let you do this without knowing the truth."_

_With that, he hung up, not trusting himself to continue any further. _She called in sick,_ he decided, the thought much more comforting than all the other scenarios his racing mind was coming up with. Suddenly, he wished that he hadn't witnessed the rookies' discussion earlier. _

_..._

_He bought her coffee the next morning. Her favorite kind with extra whipped cream, a shot of caramel, and half a packet of sugar, just the way she liked it, taking care not to spill as he made his way to the station. He was one of the first people in the parade room so he took a seat and waited, his eyes raising hopefully every time someone walked through the door. But Andy wasn't one of them. _

_Feeling a movement behind him, he looked around just in time to see Shaw reaching over his shoulder at one of the coffees in his hand._

"_It's not for you." he snapped, swatting his hand away._

_Put out, Shaw huffed and sank into his seat. "Who peed in your Cheerios?"_

Callaghan_, he was tempted to say. _And Andy. _But instead he just shrugged. Shaw opened his mouth to reply but thankfully, Best called for attention, saving Sam from an inevitable interrogation. Scanning the room, he searched for his partner but for the third time in two days, he was sorely disappointed. His grip tightened around the cups, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Shaw who shot him a questioning sideways glance. He wasn't playing this game. If she was avoiding him then he would just have to figure this out himself._

_As the other officers slowly dispersed after parade, he kept his eyes on Nash, ignoring Shaw's inquiries, and when she headed for the bullpen, he followed. _

"_Hey, Nash."_

_She turned and when she did, he thought he saw something flash briefly in her eyes. Apprehension. "Sir?"_

"_Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked, nodding his head at the adjoining hallway._

"_Sure." _

_He lead her down the hall, stopping when they were away from the prying eyes of the bullpen, then turned to face her. _

"_Do you know where Andy is?"_

_She furrowed her brow in confusion. "I thought you knew."_

"_Knew what?" _

_Her eyes widened slightly and she seemed to freeze as if something had just occurred to her. "Maybe you should talk to her." she suggested slowly, making a move to extract herself from his steady gaze._

"_Nash." he all but growled, his irritation getting the best of him. "Where is she?"_

_She looked away from him, clearly torn between her best friend and her superior officer. "She…" Her voice trailed off as she hesitated. "She transferred."_

_For a moment, he couldn't process what she just said and his mind went blank of all coherent thought._

"_What?" he asked as if there was any chance he had misheard her. "When?"_

_She let out a quiet sigh, knowing there was no point in sparing him the truth. "She requested it two days ago. I thought she told you."_

_Two days ago. The day she left him standing in the alley after he all but begged her not to move in with Callaghan. A dark, angry sensation filled the pit of his stomach and he fought to keep his composure as he clenched his jaw. "No." he said, his voice hardening. "She didn't tell me anything."_

_He held Nash's pained gaze a moment longer before walking away._

"_Sir…" he heard her call after him but he ignored her. _

_His hands began to curl into fists but the two coffee cups he still held stopped his efforts. He suddenly had the urge to hurl them at the something, anything but he resisted the temptation. Instead, he shoved them into Shaw's chest as he walked by, nearly spilling the now cold contents on his friend's bulletproof vest._

"_Here."_

"_What the hell, Sammy?" Shaw protested, just barely grabbing the cups in time._

_But he was already past him, brushing past the other officers who all threw him questioning looks. Reaching the back of the building, he threw open the exit door and stepped out, the heat of the summer sun immediately assaulting his body. In front of him, the cars of his co-workers were lined up in the lot, waiting for their owners to claim them at the end of the day but for now, no one was in sight. He then braced his palms on the gray outer wall, ignoring the heat that radiated off of it, closed his eyes, and let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. Hot, dangerous anger pumped through his veins as he slammed a fist into the wall, allowing the sharp, throbbing pain that shot up his hand and arm to take over his senses, like maybe if he concentrated on it long enough he could forget about everything else. _

_But the relief didn't come and he was left standing there with a bloodied fist and half of his shattered heart._

He cringes now as he's brought back to the present. He always hates remembering, the memories never getting any easier, so he drinks now, on the day that she left without so much as a good-bye with the hopes that maybe, just maybe he'll be able to forget just for one day. Of course, it never works and all he's able to accomplish is to drink himself into a drunken stupor with a massive headache to greet him when he woke. But that doesn't stop him from going through the same motions every year.

Slowly, he opens his eyes which he had unknowingly closed sometime during his reliving of the past and immediately, his head erupts with a series of dull, rhythmic throbbing. Still, there's only one thing on his mind right now and despite his better judgment, he raises the tequila bottle to his lips once more in an effort to drown it out. But the cool, amber liquid doesn't reach his tongue. Holding the bottle unsteadily in front of him, he squints, the effort to focus his eyes taking all his energy, and finds himself staring right through the empty glass. He frowns, having no recollection of finishing the bottle.

Suddenly, he becomes aware of the darkness of the room and lifts an arm to check his watch. When the numbers finally come into focus, his scowl deepens as his hazy eyes manage to decipher 7:55 p.m.

Leaning his aching head back against the couch, he lets out a soft groan. He knew he looked pathetic but right now he really didn't give the slightest damn. The jackhammer in his head continues to pound against his temples, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. He squeezes his eyes shut and raises his fists to forehead, the empty tequila bottle still clutched tightly in his hand. The throbbing almost seems to speed up and it's then that he realizes that the incessant beat isn't just coming from his head but from the steady knocking of someone at his front door as well.

He growls, his irritation increasing exponentially by the second. He never opens the door on this day and in years prior and indeed this very morning, he never had to. Everyone went away after a while. But after enduring several more seconds of the relentless banging, it quickly becomes clear that whoever it is isn't going to stop. Muttering unintelligible sounds, he heaves himself to his feet, taking a moment to orient himself as the room began to spin, and staggers for the door where his proximity to the pounding almost seems to make his brain vibrate in his skull. He fumbles with the locks, his fingers slow and clumsy, all the while cursing the thing to hell and back.

Finally, he succeeds and with a long train of abuses ready on his tongue, he throws the door wide open.

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A/N: Uh-oh… Only one more chapter after this. Hopefully, I'll be able to get it down with little problems but please be bear with me guys. XD Anyways, please take the time to tell me what you think. I love hearing from you. :)


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Oh, my God. First of all, I really can't explain how sorry I am for taking this long to update. All I can really say is that college sucks. And college as a nursing major sucks even more. So I apologize profusely for this extremely late update. I know some of you have been curious about whether I was planning on continuing this. But here it is. Also, a HUGE thank you to my friend Edward for allowing me to bounce creative ideas off of him. I couldn't have finished this final chapter without him. And also, to "Back to December" by Taylor Swift. I was listening to that song on repeat while I wote the last of this chapter. XD Anyways, here's the last chapter. Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: I most certainly don't own Rookie Blue.

"What?" he snarls, raising his forearm to lean against the doorjamb. The alcohol swimming through his veins clouds his vision so he's left staring at the blurry silhouette of his visitor.

She recovers from the suddenness of the door opening but when she lays eyes on the man behind it, she's thrown into a whole new level of shock. The man standing in front of her was not the Sam she knew all those years ago, nor was he the Sam she last saw just 24 hours ago. Gone are the warm, dark eyes, dimpled grin, and proud, straight back that belonged to the man she came to know and love. Instead, this man stares back at her with pained, bloodshot eyes, his mouth drawn into a taut line. He leans heavily on the doorframe, the effort to keep himself upright clearly taking every ounce of his energy, as his shoulders seem to sag with the weight of his troubles. But what strikes her the most is the overwhelming smell of alcohol that hits her when the door swings open. She glances at the empty bottle clutched tightly in his hand of what she could only imagine had once been filled with whatever it was he had consumed and knows from her experience dealing with her father's past incidents that that was not all he had had today.

She takes all this in and as she does, a small part of her heart crumples. This is what everyone had not wanted her to see and now she understands why. It was for Sam's sake as much as it was for hers. She wants to reach out to him, hold him until the hurt is gone but she knows she has to tread carefully.

"Sam." She doesn't realize she's said his name until he jerks at the sound of her soft voice.

He squints at the person standing before him. He knows that voice. Sure enough, when his alcohol-induced haze partially lifts, he finds himself staring at the last person he wants standing at his door today. "The hell are you doin' here?" he asks, his voice rough from lack of use.

There's a moment's hesitation before she responds, duly noting the slur blurring his words together. "I need to talk to you."

He snorts. "Callaghan know you're here?"

For some reason, she hesitates. This isn't exactly how she planned on telling him. "We got divorced."

He lets out a soft chuckle and smiles humorlessly. "And I'm his replacement?" To be honest, their spilt comes as a surprise to him.

"You know it's not like that." Despite her efforts, her voice betrays her flash of anger.

"I don't _know _anything." he shoots back.

She flinches slightly at the double meaning of his statement but gets herself back under control and continues in a much softer tone, "Can you please just let me in?"

Mustering up what little strength he has, he fights through the alcohol dragging him down and stands stubbornly in the doorway. "Whatever you wanna say, you can say it right here."

"I want to do this right, Sam." she says softly. "Please."

He briefly entertains the idea of shutting the door in her face but knowing that she would probably just continue on with her pounding, he decides against it. He was in no mood to have his already splitting headache exacerbated. Grudgingly, he turns his back, leaving the door open, a sign for her to follow.

She enters wearily, as if waiting for him to change his mind and point her out the door. Again, a wave of déjà vu comes over her as she steps through the threshold and closes the door behind her, remembering the last time she had been in his darkened house. But things were different then and the strain of a five years absence now hangs heavily in the air. She follows him into the living room where he stops abruptly and spins around to face her.

"Well," he says, leaning his hip against the couch to keep himself upright as he drops the empty tequila bottle on the cushions. "Let's hear it."

She takes in the hard set lines of his face and once again fights the urge to reach out and touch him. "You weren't at the station today." she says instead.

"And you were?" he deflects.

"I was looking for you."

A tense silence falls between them.

She shuffles her feet nervously. "You never call in sick."

"Why the hell do you care?"

"I'm just trying to understand."

"There's nothing to understand." he replies tersely, crossing his arms over his chest.

Impatience flashes briefly in her eyes but she fights to keep her calm, knowing that getting worked up wouldn't do either of them any good. "Sam, I think we owe it to ourselves to try to be honest."

An uncharacteristic sneer pulls at his lips. "You're one to talk about honesty."

She hesitates. "I didn't lie to you."

"You're right." he shoots back, the sarcasm and contempt dripping from his voice. "You didn't say anything."

They stare at each other, the tension in the air palpable.

"We're done." he says at a length when the silence becomes unbearable. "Get out."

There's a beat. "No." The firmness of her voice startles both of them. "I waited five years to say this. I'm not waiting anymore."

"Well, then I hope you don't mind talking to yourself." he replies, turning away with every intention of shutting himself in his room until she decided to leave.

"I'm sorry." she says suddenly to his back causing him to stop mid-step. "I screwed up. I get that and I'm sorry. I know that doesn't even begin to cover everything that's happened but I have to start somewhere." She pauses, her voice softening slightly. "It's killed me as much as it's killed you so don't think you were the only one who spent the last five years wondering."

At this, his anger, fueled by the copious amounts of tequila pumping through his veins, flares up and he spins back around to face her. "Yeah? 'Cause it certainly felt like I was."

She flinches at his sudden outburst but stands her ground.

"I spent two days telling myself that you were just avoiding me. That you called in sick because you were over thinking what I said like how you always do." he continues in a dangerously quiet tone. "So imagine my surprise when Nash tells me you've transferred."

"I know I should've told you—"

"We were goddamn partners!" he yells, taking a step forward. "Of course you should've told me! We should've had a conversation like decent human beings!"

"What, you think I wanted this?" she fires back, unable to keep her voice from rising. "You think I wanted to leave?"

He clenches his jaw and lets out a strangled sigh and when he answers, he can hear a tinge of resignation creep into his voice. "I don't know what to think anymore."

They stand there for a moment, the defeated silence that falls between them nearly shattering her heart. She makes up her mind then that she's put it off long enough. There would be no going back after this. "I was scared, Sam." she whispers at a length. "It was always different with you. I felt different with you. And that scared me because…" Closing her eyes, she allows a soft sigh escape her lips. "Because that meant that you mattered more to me than anyone ever had before. And I didn't trust myself with that." She pauses long enough to take a steadying breath. "Luke was safe, simple. I didn't have to figure him out. Or get hurt trying. Somehow I convinced myself that I could be happy with him, that I didn't need you to make me feel like I was the only one that mattered."

He shifts his gaze to look at the floor, not wanting her to see the hurt in his eyes at her statement.

"Then you went and turned everything upside down." she continues, the ghost of a fond smile playing at her lips. "We weren't playing a game anymore. It was real and that terrified me. So, I did the one thing I knew how to do. I ran. I thought that maybe if I ran far enough, I'd be able to forget you." She chuckles quietly at her naiveté. "I know it was stupid because in the end the only person I actually managed to fool was Luke and I couldn't live with that anymore. So, yeah, I should've told you. I should've told you everything because then maybe we wouldn't be in this mess. But I didn't and I'm sorry. You probably hate me and I honestly wouldn't blame you but I'm sorry."

"Andy—"

"No." she interrupts, holding up a hand to cut him off. "I need to say this now before I can't get it out anymore. I know I made a mistake. I know I hurt you. And I'm not expecting anything. I just want you to know something that I should've said five years ago." She doesn't know where her sudden resolve is coming from but she takes the opportunity to step forward, bringing her closer to him. A lump has formed in her throat but she swallows it down and in a whisper so soft she strains to hear her own voice, she says the words that have been haunting her for the past five years.

"I love you. And I'm sorry it's taken me this long to say it but I'm saying it. I love you, Sam. Nothing can ever change that. I know that doesn't undo everything that's happened but I wanted you to know."

Nothing changes in his expression as she says this, his eyes still glued to a spot on the floor.

"I never meant do to this to you." she sighs. "Please understand that."

"Doesn't matter what you meant. You did it anyway." he replies, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"I'm so sorry." Stepping forward, she gently raises a hand to his face.

He flinches and shies away.

What little hope she was holding on to immediately fades at his reaction. Quickly dropping her hand to her side, she looks at him for a moment longer. "I'll show myself out then." she says quietly. Careful to keep her eyes downcast, she turns away and heads for the door.

"Wait."

She stops, turning hesitantly to look at him and finds his piercing, dark eyes on hers.

Several moments pass before he opens his mouth to address her. "You were wrong." he says in a voice she's never heard before. "I wanted to hate you. I wanted to so bad it hurt. There were times when I almost had myself convinced that I did."

"And now?"

He doesn't respond to this but the intensity and longing of his gaze is the only answer she needs.

"So where does that leave us?" she asks, taking a small step back towards him.

He sighs wearily. "I don't know. You disappeared for five years, Andy. Things change."

"I know they do. But I haven't." she replies softly. Slowly, her hope begins to grow again and she finds herself stepping closer to him. "I want to fix this, Sam. I want what we were both too stubborn to admit five years ago. But you have to let me in." She's standing in front of him now, the heat from his bare chest radiating from him. Looking up, she gazes directly into his tired, brown eyes and sees something change almost imperceptibly in them as he grants her his silent permission. Slowly, she raises her hand to his face again like how she did just several moments before.

He tenses slightly but doesn't move back. It had been a long while since someone had touched him like that, the sensation of her warm hand on his skin bringing him back to better days between the two of them. But slowly, he begins to relax, allowing himself to sink into her touch. Closing his eyes, he tilts his head forward until his forehead rests against hers.

"I missed you." he murmurs.

She brings her other hand to lay lightly on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and rhythmic beat of his heart. "I know. I'm sorry."

They remain in that position for a moment, neither daring to move, until she finds herself inching closer. Gently, as if ready for him to pull away, she brings her lips upon his. But he doesn't shy away, instead wrapping his arms around her waist to bring her flush against him. The kiss is slow, unhurried, each of them pouring everything they had been keeping bottled up for the past five years into that one moment. The taste of tequila, sharp and strong, hits her mouth and a pang of guilt shoots through her.

All too soon, the moment passes and they pull back, slightly out of breath. In a gesture that causes butterflies to erupt in her stomach, he brushes his nose softly against hers. She smiles, remembering the last time he had done that. She then becomes aware of how tightly he's holding her to him, his strong arms keeping her close.

Cradling his face in her hands, she places another kiss on his lips. "I'm not going anywhere." she whispers as his warm breath tickles her cheek. She then pushes herself up on her toes and wraps her arms around his neck. "I promise."

With a relieved sigh, he relaxes his grip, his breath slowing as he released the tension in his body. She was here. She was here and in his arms and he loved her. There would be no mistaking that now. Not after all this time.

And then Sam Swarek closed his eyes and smiled his first genuine smile in five years.

She was here. And she was his.

* * *

A/N: And so it ends. This last chapter was incredibly difficult to write but as a whole, I loved writing this story. If you're reading this, thank you so much for sticking with this fic. It really means a lot to me. Anyways, please take the time to tell me what you think. Until next time! Cheers! And Happy Thanksgiving! :)


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